


For We Are All Made of Stars

by readbycandlelight



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies), Thor: The Dark World - Fandom
Genre: Asgard, F/M, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 03:17:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readbycandlelight/pseuds/readbycandlelight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy Lewis did a bad thing…and she blames it all on the glowy piece of fruit she ate while on a trip to Asgard. Darcy/Loki</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Friday**

* * *

 

Darcy Lewis did a bad thing.

She ate a glowing fruit.

It was just asking to happen, really. She just happened to be the one that gave in to temptation.

She was currently in attendance at Jane and Thor’s wedding in Asgard (yeah, you heard that right - in Asgard), the ceremony was over, pronouncing Thor and Jane as ‘Thunder God and Wife’, and it was now evening and everyone was enjoying the wedding banquet and dancing under the Asgardian night sky.

And when Darcy said everyone, she meant everyone. Apparently, Thor had made a lot of friends over his reeeeally long lifespan. Thousands of Asgardians were in attendance, along with Darcy, Dr Selvig and the Avengers, a smattering of Light Elves and dwarves, the royal court of the Vanir, and even a few Frost Giants that Thor was able to make peace with. It was weird, but also totally awesome, and made for a very interesting and varied banquet to suit every species dietary needs.

Which included glowing fruit. Apparently they were some kind of Light Elf variety.

Earlier when everyone had all lined up to get their servings, Natasha Romanoff, who was looking very pretty and elegant in a light gossamer blue dress with golden armor accents, said in a hushed and serious tone in Darcy’s ear, “Don’t eat anything you don’t recognize.”

Which was probably good advice, on account of Natasha being a professional assassin trained in espionage and all, which meant she was smart and overly suspicious of certain things, like alien food, on principle. But this was freakin’ glowing fruit, and Darcy wanted some! Besides…Thor hadn’t cautioned her against eating anything. And since, you know, he was Asgardian and had visited all these other realms and had sampled their food, he probably knew if something was poisonous or not. Probably.

So, against Natasha’s advice, Darcy had palmed a glowing fruit (when the Black Widow wasn’t looking, of course) and then filled the golden plate she had been handed with some roasted meat and potatoes that looked pretty good, and some salad greens. When she sat to eat she put the glowing fruit in her lap, out of eyesight. The normal stuff turned out to be actually quite tasty. Asgardians know how to throw it down, apparently. When she was done with everything on her plate, her mouth watered as she eyed her last remaining delicacy held within the folds of her dark purple dress.

The fruit was about the size and consistency of an apricot, but a gentle pulse of white-gold light emanated from its core. At this point, most of the other humanoids that had come with her on this trip to Asgard had finished eating as well and were going in for seconds. She took a quick sweeping look of her table, making sure no one was watching, and popped the whole fruit into her mouth. She had to hold back a moan of satisfaction. It burst on her tongue like a sweet juicy cherry, but the flavor it imparted was much more intense. She tried to discern the other flavors she was tasting.

Maybe somewhere between…honey and pomegranate and cream. But even then that didn’t capture the essence of the flavor. Maybe if starlight had a flavor, that’s what this glowing fruit would taste like, Darcy decided. Too soon there was nothing to do but swallow it. She noted that it didn’t have a seed. As soon as it slid down her throat she mourned the loss of it, and considered going in for seconds.

That notion quickly left her head as soon as she stood up. The world had suddenly turned into a shimmering, rippling wonderland. Darcy gasped in delight as she saw shimmering light of various colors emanating from all directions. She realized as she looked around that the light was coming from everyone around her.

“Whoa,” she said, as she watched the wedding guests who had already congregated on the dance floor elegantly sway together to the music. Everyone had their own individual color, and it followed them with every sweeping turn they made as they danced. She noticed that most of the elves had the same forest green light rippling around them, but all the other species did not match in color. Like a moth to a flame, she stepped onto the dance floor and randomly starting dancing with an achingly gorgeous Vanirian nobleman, who had a golden light surrounding him and a grin on his face as he looked down at her good-naturedly, sweeping her up into the spirited dance. She danced in ecstatic joy for she didn’t know how long, switching from dance partner to dance partner. As the night drew on, the effects of the glowing fruit grew more intense, and as she twirled under the stars she realized she could really see the stars for what they truly were for the first time. They were bright and fiery and more intense than any firework she had ever seen! In fact…she realized that the intensity slightly frightened her. Especially since she could see some stars wilting and shooting down from the sky, as if they were going to strike her. She gasped in fright and clung to her current dance partner, a redheaded Asgardian gentleman, as she came to the conclusion that it was all too much.

“I have to…go somewhere else,” she told her dance partner, releasing from him and stepping off the dance floor. There were too many bodies crowding around her. She sped her way back into the palace, away from the intensity of the noise and the color and the shooting stars. She breathed a sigh of relief once there was a roof over her head, cloaking her from most of the magic. At this point she was barefoot, so it was the gentle sound of her feet padding against the marble floors as she walked down the labyrinthine corridors. “Uh oh,” she said, as she realized she had forgotten how to get to her room that she was staying in for this trip. She blinked as the shadows in the high-vaulted corridors seemed to shift and undulate. Giving out a sigh of exasperation, she aimlessly walked on.

In the quiet, and quite alone, she was able to notice the gentle pulses of light that even emanated off of the inanimate objects all around her, like the hand-woven tapestries and the hand-painted urns. The gentle light seemed to breathe life into them. There was also a slight buzz in the air… Darcy’s eyes widened as she came to the conclusion that she was sensing the energy within the objects. “Freaky,” she breathed in total awe… That’s just about when she noticed a giant set of double doors. One of the doors was slightly ajar. Just a little, tiny bit - but enough for a thin sliver of darkness to spill out onto the marble of the corridor she was in.

Darcy stopped, feeling an inexplicable pull towards the darkness. Making up her mind, she walked over to the set of double doors and finished opening the one that was slightly ajar. The first thing she noticed was the giant cloud of intensely dark color. At first look, the color was black, but as her eyes adjusted, she realized that it was an incredibly dark blue…and it was surrounding a pale figure who had looked towards her when he heard the creak of the door.

Loki. Somewhere in her mind she knew that he wasn’t a friend or an entirely welcome sight, but her glowing fruit delirium pushed those notions to the side in the face of her curiosity. No one else attending the wedding had as dark a light as he did. She stepped into the room, which turned out to be the largest and most beautiful library she had ever seen in her entire life. She determinedly walked towards Loki, who was seated alone at a large table piled high with thick ancient tomes. He didn’t say anything as she walked towards him. His green eyes, which looked like glittering emeralds in Darcy’s heightened state of mind, followed her movements. She could not read his expression, but she didn’t much care to - she was too busy staring.

He was still bedecked in his royal Asgardian finery, which he had worn to the wedding ceremony, but it looked different somehow…like it was flickering in and out of existence, and Darcy could see the dark blue light that was pulsing from underneath it. Darcy did something very bold then. She stepped into his personal space and placed her hand on his golden chest plate, over where his left pectoral muscle lay beneath.

Instantly, he was up from his seat and his much larger hand was firmly wrapped around hers, pulling it away. “What do you think you are doing, mortal?” he asked harshly, his eyes searching hers. And then his expression flashed in surprise. “…What has happened to your eyes? They are…glowing.” Dawning realization set in…and suddenly he looked amused. “You have eaten the fruit of the Light Elves.”

Darcy nodded enthusiastically. “It was really, really good.” She furrowed her dark, finely arched eyebrows, trying to think of how to describe the experience. “It was like…an orgasm…but in my mouth.” She frowned. “Wait…that didn’t sound right.” Fail. That was definitely a fail.

The amused grin slanting his lips turned decidedly wicked. His eyes took on a new light of interest. “My, my, how… exhilarating for you.” He tilted his head to the side, examining her. “I’ve never seen the effects of a mortal consuming a Light Fruit before. You look worlds away right now. Tell me, what is it like for you? It seems to be having a profound effect on your weak, human constitution.”

Darcy’s hand, which Loki had batted away only moments ago, obstinately rose up again to trace the sharp line of his cheek. He rose a dark brow archly, warningly, but he didn’t brush her away this time. Instead, his sharp eyes bore into her dreamy gaze. “It’s like…I’m more aware of everything,” she said, as she traced his features, trailing up to the shape of his arched eyebrow. “Everything is more intense, and I see these colors all around me, pulsing from the people and chairs and these books and even you! Your light is blue and dark and shimmers like starlight. It’s very pretty,” she said with a smile, as her pointer finger traced back down and ghosted along the seam of his lips with a feather-like gentleness.

His lips parted slightly at the contact, and his breathing turned a little more audible. “Is it?” he asked against her finger. “How interesting.”

“Mmhmmm,” Darcy hummed, keeping at the lazy pattern on his mouth. “It was getting too intense for me to stay outside, so I decided to come in. But I’ve lost my way.”

“I would have to agree with that,” he said, and his cultured voice was decidedly deeper, laced with something that made Darcy’s skin tighten - but in an good way.

“I like the way that your skin feels,” she said in her non sequitur, glowy fruit-induced way. “It’s soft, and cool, like mint, and it feels really good right now ‘cuz my skin feels really hot. Look, feel,” she said, pulling her finger away from his lips to place his fine-boned, long fingered hand on the pale skin of her arm. His hand impulsively slid up and down her arm, caressing. She let out a shiver because it felt really good.

“You do not know what you are doing, mortal,” he suddenly warned, but he wasn’t stopping. “If you knew what was good for you you would leave right now and go back out to Thor and his woman’s celebrations.”

Which was true. If Darcy was in her right mind, she would have already scoffed at his derogatory references of her as ‘mortal’ and Jane as ‘Thor’s woman’ and she would have remembered that, oh yeah - this is freaking _Loki_  and he'd once tried to enslave all of humanity and take over Earth…but, for better or for worse, she wasn’t in her right state of mind right now. So these facts just all seemed to float into the ether. Instead, she said, with a teasing pout on her full, glistening pink lips, “I don’t have to go back out there. You’re not out there - and you’re Thor’s brother!”

“Debatable,” he said tightly. “Also, I have done my part by being in attendance at the ceremony, and, since I don’t particularly like anyone out there - most especially _your_ lot - I wished to be alone for the remainder of this evening.”

“You don’t like me?” she asked with a laugh. It seemed so funny to her right now, what with the way he was still caressing her arm.

“No,” he said, as if this should be obvious.

“Not even a little?” she asked coquettishly, pointedly gazing at where his hand touched her.

His gaze dropped down to where his hand kneaded her flesh too. He suddenly pulled her in towards him with that arm, so there was no space in between them. The bare tops of her breasts, which artfully spilled out from the tight bodice of her dark purple dress, pressed against the cool metal of his armor with every heaving breath she took. His eyes were dark, molten pools of almost pure black; only a thin lining of green remained at the edges of his dilated pupils. “I don’t have to like you to thoroughly enjoy fucking you.”

There was a long, heated moment where Darcy’s magic-muddled brain digested this information. The words were taunting - daring her to get scared and run out of the room and out of the situation. But her fear wilted away underneath the strong bolts of pleasure ricocheting all along her nerve endings. He felt so good against her, he wanted her, and there was such a pretty blue light surrounding him. Her mind was made up. “I don’t like you either,” she ended up saying, breathless.

Her response seemed to surprise him for a moment, as if he had been sure his coarse words would have made her take up defense and leave the room in a huff. But the surprise only lasted a moment…and then whatever thin restraint he had left seemed to snap, because he was banning his arm around the span of her waist and lifting her up so that he didn’t need to crane his neck down anymore. “Suit yourself, mortal,” he rasped out, right before he smashed his lips down against hers, licking and sucking and biting to gain entrance to her mouth.

Darcy gasped, feeling an explosion of pleasure, and she clung to him as he slid his tongue into her mouth. Again, the only way for her to describe it was like the soothing and cool feel of mint on her tongue as he ravished her mouth. Her perception of reality was going haywire and the blue kept flickering in and out, making Loki’s skin, where she could access it, feel cool one moment and hot the next. Loki finally ripped his mouth away from hers breathlessly, never breaking eye contact, as he switched their positions so that she was against the table, and then made quick work of pushing all of the books off the table so that the surface was cleared. The books fell to the floor with a loud succession of ‘crack! crack! crack! and then he cupped her ass and set her on the table edge.

“Oooh, library sex,” Darcy giggled, utterly tipsy off magic and his kisses.

Loki gave her a brief smirk before his heated gaze fell back down to her swollen mouth. He watched as she bit her lip and looked at him through her thick eyelashes. Groaning, he slowly pressed the long lines of his body against hers, his arms coming to rest on either side of the table, pinning her against him, as he lowered his mouth back to her lips - slowly, this time. Darcy’s insides further tightened up in want as she realized he was just showing off his mad kissing skills at this point (not that she was complaining, ‘cuz she sooooo wasn’t). After a while, when the need for oxygen kicked in, she broke away with a keening noise in the back of her throat because she hadn’t realized that he'd been slowly rucking the long length of her dress up her legs until it was pooling at her waist and she could feel the hard press of his armor-clad thighs insinuating their way in between her bare inner thighs. He licked at the seam of her lips as one of his hands splayed between them. One lone, long finger gently trailed across the front of her thong, sliding down to tease over her clit, and then further down to rub tiny, maddening circles over her clothed entrance. All this time his eyes had been on hers, dark and hungry.

“Please,” she whispered, needing more.

Seemingly not needing to be told twice, his gaze lowered down to where he was working her through her drenched thong, looking as if he was going to take pity on her and pull her offending garment off - that is, until he actually got a good look at said offending garment. He blinked in surprise, and ghosted his fingers along the see-through lavender lace. “This is…”

When it seemed he had no words, she blinked through her aroused haze to try to help him out. “A thong.”

He fiddled with the thin, delicate strap on her hip. “Things have changed on Midgard,” he murmured, gently pulling it down…and then inhaled deeply as he discovered something else. Her pussy was bare. “Things have definitely changed on Midgard.”

She smiled. “Is that a good thi-” she started to say, right before she cut herself off with a moan.

He had collapsed down onto his knees, spreading her legs wide apart, and pressed his mouth fervently between her legs.

“So good, good, good,” she babbled.

The feeling was so intense that her eyes rolled up into the back of her head and her back arched at a dangerous angle. All the while Loki powerfully held her legs apart as he licked sinful lines and swirls against her sensitive inner flesh. Dark blue light danced across her vision as the coil inside of her grew tighter and tighter. Her hands slid down and raked through his glossy black hair, as his tongue went back up to twirl around and tease her clit while one and then two of his fingers sunk into her soaking heat. She was finally able to open her eyes again and look down to watch. His green eyes stared up at her as he laved at her swollen sex, and the glowing fruit magic made her see dark blue across his skin for a flash of a second, along with hungry red eyes. In that flash of a moment, his touch grew cold again, and the sudden temperature change sent so much pleasure through her that the tightened coil inside of her flew apart and she was coming in waves.

When she finally came back to herself, Loki was his pale self again and still between her legs, kissing her bare mound. When he saw that she had come-to, he gave her a lazy smirk. “Did you like that, mortal?”

“Mmmmm,” she said ineloquently.

“Ready for more?” he asked, standing up. She had to blink several times in astonishment because his clothes had literally vanished right before her eyes. Had that been the fruit magic or him?

Whatever it was, he was naked and she was very, very distracted by the long lean lines of pale flesh…and the tight abs, and the deep grooves of his hipbones leading in a V towards his… She licked her lips, and he watched her with eyes so intense that she thought she might catch fire. Especially when he wrapped one of his long-fingered hands around his ridged length, stroking upwards towards the engorged head, precum spilling from the tip. He hissed in pleasure, circling his thumb around the head on the upstrokes.

Darcy absentmindedly went to squeeze her breast. That’s when she realized that she was naked too. Okay, so that was Loki magic, not fruit magic, she filed away in her lust addled brain. “Yes, more, now,” she said, scooting back to the edge of the table.

He came forward with a feral smile, lining himself up so that he could tease her clit with the blunt tip of his arousal for a few moments. A bolt of pleasure arced through her, and she reflexively squeezed her thighs around his hips and raked her short nails down his back. This action was met with a growl from Loki, and he started to sink into her at the same moment that he wrapped his lips around her nipple and started to suck voraciously.

Darcy moaned as he sunk all of the way in, raking her hands through his black, shoulder length hair as his hands tilted her hips upwards towards his narrow, snapping hips. His mouth released her nipple as his gaze focused on hers again. He seemed to like what he saw because he hissed, “ _Fuck_ ,” in pleasure. His movements picked up dizzying speed, and he switched to her other aching nipple, lathing and nipping it until she was crying out from sheer pleasure. Her second orgasm ripped through her with a suddenness that made her scream. All the while Loki pounded into her with a determined set to his jaw, making her ride out the wave of her orgasm.

“Oh God!” she moaned, her vision swimming in lights and color.

Loki laughed darkly, never losing his rhythm. “Singing your god’s praises still when you have another between your legs?” Suddenly he picked her up like a rag doll, keeping her pinned on his cock while he walked over to a bookshelf. He pressed her back up against the shelf, and started pistoning in and out of her again. “We’ll have to rectify that, won’t we?” he breathed against her ear as he fucked her. “Say my name,” he commanded.

“Ungh,” was the only thing she managed to say as the fire was stoked within her once again.

“Say my name!” he said, twisting his snapping hips, making Darcy see stars dance around the library.

“Loki!” she screamed, feeling another giant orgasm cresting. Almost there, almost there!

“Ooh yes, mortal, just like that,” he breathed sensuously, his hips going faster and faster as he got closer to his own release. “Say it again.”

She screamed his name over and over again in the cavernous room, her voice echoing off the walls as she fell over the precipice again, her pussy fluttering tightly around his cock. Loki moaned and pressed his lips to hers as his hips rolled up, pinning her against the shelf hard as he filled her with his release. He lost his rhythm as he came, his hips stuttering to a halt as he held her firmly to him.

They stayed locked like this for several moments, breathing against each other’s lips while the aftershocks made them shiver where they were fused together down below. Loki’s eyes fluttered open, and he gave her a satisfied grin, slowly kissing her in a languid way that held none of their previous urgency. One of his hands came up to lightly stroke her mussed dark hair away from her face as he drew away from her mouth and studied her. Darcy smiled up at him, the stars finally receding from her vision. “Your eyes are blue,” he commented.

His words confused her for a moment…until she realized that there wasn’t a dark blue light surrounding him anymore, and she couldn’t see any buzzing energy in the room around them. Her eyes were blue…which meant that her eyes weren’t glowing anymore. And if her eyes weren’t glowing anymore, and she couldn’t see the magical light anymore, that meant…

The glowy fruit magic had worn off.

And she was totally herself again, pinned against a bookshelf with the God of Mischief buried between her legs.

“Oh my God,” she squeaked, her eyes going wide.

 **To Be Continued** …


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was getting suuuuper long so I ended up breaking it into two parts. So if you read the 'Sunday Six' preview I gave on Tumblr, just know that that's now in Part 3. Hopefully you like the direction I'm taking this fic in!

 

Loki ‘tsked’ at her in faux disappointed at her choice of words. “I thought we discussed this,” he said, braced with his pale, sinewy arms on either side of her head on the bookshelf. “It is I, Loki.” His next words were an intimate whisper. “Do you need reminding? Shall we go again?” he asked with a devilish grin. He pulled his hips back the tiniest bit and then sunk forward.

A sweet renewed ache bloomed inside her from the contact, along with a shock of stone cold reality. Loki was inside her. _Loki_ was inside her. And he was still hard. “Uhh,” she said, un-clawing her hands from his back and placing them on his chest to brace herself. Which, not a good idea -- _so not a good idea_ \-- because then her attention was drawn to the fact that he was lean and cut and glistening with sweat from their activities. “Haha -- no,” she said in a higher-pitched, flustered voice. “No need for reminding.” She was in full on freak out mode now as all of her previous glowy fruit-induced actions crashed through her mind's eye, but now under an ultra clear and vivid filter. She squirmed...and then gasped as... _things_ happened down below because of her squirming. She could see it in his eyes by the way that they flickered and darkened that she wasn't the only one aware of the pulses and squeezing below.

"I should go," she started to say, her voice raspy from all of the screaming she had been doing. Her cheeks were stained a deep red and she unhooked her ankles from their locked position at his ass, making to lower her legs down -- but he quickly grasped her under her thighs, firmly hitching her back up. Her thighs trembled as his force spread her legs further apart, thrusting his pelvis forward and sending shock-waves through her as she felt him twitching inside of her.

"Oh, come now," he said (and Darcy thought she almost could). She'd never really heard him talk before this evening. His voice was deep and silken, with a resonance of other-worldliness that made her insides clench. He inclined his head at an angle to force her to meet his gaze. "Dost the lady grow shy? Only moments ago you were renouncing your god for me.”

"Ha," she tried to say dryly, but it came out sort of breathy. "Yeah, no - I wasn't. That was just me being all caught up in the moment. A moment that," she added, as she pushed against his chest again. Luckily, this time he relented so she didn't have to be distracted with the hard planes of his chest rubbing against her boobs anymore. "We're gonna forget ever happened, and will tell no one about, ever, comprende?”

“I could sooner forget which direction the sun rises than I could forget this,” he said with a regretful moan as she successfully lowered her legs from his waist and disengaged his length from her.

She pretended she hadn’t heard him, even though in the smallest recesses of her mind she felt a tiny feminine thrill that he’d obviously had an awesome time with her girl parts. “Now where is my dress?" she asked distractedly, gingerly walking on legs that felt like jelly.

Loki casually leaned himself against the bookshelf that they had just oh so thoroughly christened. Well, maybe not 'christened' per se, because Loki had made damn sure Darcy knew that Jesus had nothing to do with it. Maybe debauched. Yeah, debauched sounded about right. She glanced around the vastness of the library, becoming aware of the chill that was starting to caress her bare skin. Darn these golden palaces and their draftiness... There was no dark purple dress in sight. Finally, she turned her gaze back to the one place she'd really rather it not be.

Loki, and all his elegant casualness, was so not appreciated right now, what, with all his glorious nudity just being all - well, _glorious_. He looked like one of those grand Italian masterpieces on the study of masculinity carved in marble. And that was her professional opinion (she'd been an Art History major for a minute). Loki was all alabaster skin and long, lean, streamlined muscles. Combine that with his silky black hair and green eyes, and it just wasn't fair. And, to make matters even worse, his backdrop was a breathtaking ancient library. All in all the scene was just _so damn good_. If it weren’t for the whole sociopathic 'tried to take over the world to make it a better place' thing that he had done three years ago, she might have even scrambled to find a camera so she could snap a picture of this delectable sight as a souvenir.

When Darcy took a step out of her musings, it was to find that - oh, hello - Loki seemed to be having musings of his own...and his avid gaze slowly trailing up and down her body led her to believe that his thoughts were centering around her. And he wasn't thinking something quaint like asking her out to tea and cookies, if you caught her drift. She crossed her legs, trying to hide her femininity as best she could, while also crossing her arms over her chest. His dark brows furrowed, and he suddenly looked very much like a petulant prince whose favorite toys had been taken away.

"My dress?" she asked archly. "You didn't magic it into some wormhole, did you?"

One corner of his mouth lifted up into a lopsided smirk, and suddenly she was afraid she was giving him ideas.

"What if I said I do not want to forget what happened?" he asked challengingly. "What if I said," and here his eyes roamed along the planes of her body that he could see (which was decidedly a lot), "that I've been pleasantly surprised by the turn this evening has taken and I wish to call on you again?" A fire was alight in his eyes.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Call on me--?" Understanding set in, and her eyes widened in panic. "No. Absolutely not! There will be no calling on me again - ever! Tonight was a magically-induced, one time deal. No repeat performances." Her face suddenly took on a look of incredulousness, and in her fervor she forgot to keep covering her breasts. "And, dude, earlier you made it crystal clear that you not only hate my friends, and, you know, the whole human race while we're at it, but you don't think much of me either."

The smile on his face was knowing, like he had one-up on her. "As I seem to recall, you were only too eager to return the sentiment," he said, as his eyes fell lustfully to her bare breasts. "I've realized I'm willing to look past certain things, for the pursuit of a little...mischief."

Darcy looked down and then crossed her arms over her chest again. "Wow. I forgot to be flattered because of the veiled insult in there. Does that technique usually go well with the ladies?" she asked sarcastically.

Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say.

Suddenly, point-blank, he was directly in front of her. "Listen to me, _mortal_." His eyes were an unyielding emerald, hard and glittering with a power he knew he possessed over her. "Tonight you started something. _You_ started something. I know mischief when I see it and tonight at that ceremony your eyes lustfully sought out thrills in a strange land. I warned you to leave the library but you did not listen. You could have slunk off and found someone like Fandral for a quaint little fuck but you chose me. Now my touch has been all over you and my seed seeps from your bare little cunt. _You court chaos_ ," he said in a dark whisper against the shell of her ear. "So when you climb into bed tonight, know this..." He grasped her hand and placed it around his rock-hard, throbbing erection still slick with her juices. "My thoughts will be on you, from the comfort of my own bed, as I stroke my cock. And as I come, know that it will be your mouth, your breasts, your quim, that I am imagining, as I devise plans for how to drive you wild with need for me. So good night… _Darcy Lewis_ ," he said, placing emphasis on her name in a tone that was as much startling as it was sensual, (she hadn’t known he knew her name) "and sweet dreams."

Darcy suddenly stumbled with a gasp. He was gone from the library... And Darcy's dress was magically back on her.

With her heart racing and tingles racing between her legs, she left the library with the feeling that she had just literally fucked with a force that shouldn't be reckoned with.

* * *

Darcy did not get very much sleep that night. Their hedonistic acts in the library and Loki's parting words kept on invading her dreams. He was on top of her, _inside_ of her, his mouth ravishing her between her legs, his cock pressing into her mouth. He was everywhere. Finally unable to handle so much imagery without slipping into consciousness, Darcy woke with a choked gasp and bit her lip...as her hand traveled down her freshly bathed skin to the new arousal soaking between her thighs.

* * *

 

Loki came with a satisfied groan, thick ropes of pearly essence splashing onto his sleek abdominal muscles as his hips arched off his bed. A smirk spread widely across his features as he felt through his magic that she came too.

His orgasm was all the better in that he had not manipulated her dreams; he found he could simply watch through his magical connection as she came up with the lovely images herself.

* * *

**Saturday**

* * *

 

 

"I curse you, glowy fruit!" Darcy yelled, stabbing a wobbly-looking fruit drawing that she had done on some royal Asgardian stationery that had been left in her lavish guest room. It was mid-morning, she was in her most comfy pajamas (which had little mustachioed-cupcakes all over them), and she still hadn't gotten out of bed yet.

She didn't want to face the day. Or, you know, more specifically - Loki.

Because she had sex with Loki. Really good, magical, _multiple orgasms_ sex with Loki.

And he wanted to continue having sex with her for the next week that she was going to be here. Which - that was pretty bad - but it got even worse. She couldn’t stop thinking about him or those last heated things he said to her. Especially--

“‘ _ **I know mischief when I see it and tonight at that ceremony your eyes lustfully sought out thrills in a strange land**_.’”

She hadn’t known that he had even noticed her in the crowds of female attendants at Jane’s side during the ceremony. But he was right. Her plan all along had been to party hard and bang a hot Asgardian. She hadn’t gotten waxed before coming to Asgard and brought all her slinkiest lingerie for nothin’.

“‘ _ **You could have slunk off and found someone like Fandral for a quaint little fuck but you chose me.**_ ’”

And it made her miserable about how right he was. He’d turned her down, acted abrasive, warned her off, and told her to leave several times before they’d had sex. She’d still insisted, and deep down she wasn’t so sure how much of an influence the glowy fruit had had on her choice of partner. She’d been the instigator of the chaotic situation she now found herself in.

“‘ _ **You court chaos**_.’”

Fuckity fuck fuck fuckaroo.

Literally.

She was just about to debate the merits of hiding out in her room for the rest of the trip, when there was a knock on her door.

She jumped, her imagination running wild with the thought of Loki already back for round two, and called out, "W-who is it?"

"Natasha."

Thinking back to how the Black Widow had been the one to warn her to not eat strange magical food in the first place, Darcy found herself feeling less than relieved to hear the SHIELD agent’s voice. It was like a big ol’ “I told you so” from the universe. Ugh. Darcy scrambled to crumble up her stabbed drawing and stuffed it under her pillows. "Come in."

The redheaded Avenger came into the room wearing a golden armored wrap-around dress and her hair twisted in an elegant updo that was set with a gold circlet. She took one look at Darcy's cupcake mustache pajamas and one of her brows arched up high. "Are you feeling well?"

Darcy realized then that she must look very out of it. She was usually the one getting into everyone's business and sticking her nose into places it shouldn't be -- like restricted SHIELD areas or Director Fury's hidden stash of strawberry bubblegum -- so if Darcy was being her usual self, she'd be running around Asgard berserk right now. It was only ironic that because Darcy had been her usual self and stuck her business in Loki's business and intermingled it into full on naughty business that she was being all weird and antisocial right now. But she couldn't tell the _Black Widow_ that. "I'm fine," she lied - but she really sucked at lying. Not to mention that Agent Romanoff was an ace at reading body language and facial expressions because of her job and all, so Darcy was pretty sure she wouldn't be convinced.

Which turned out to be true because Natasha looked very doubtful. "Are you sure? You look a little worse for wear." And then she looked knowing. “Was it something you ate?”

Darcy almost choked on her own breath. “No.” It was a little too high pitched even to her own ears. "Just too much partying. You know how it is," she tried to say nonchalantly.

Natasha frowned at her. "Right... Well, Thor and Jane have resurfaced from their love nest and we're going to be having another banquet -- or rather continue last night’s since it actually hasn’t seemed to stop. So get ready and meet us in the Great Hall."

"Can do," Darcy said with a fake mega-watt smile, pointing a finger-gun at the assassin and making a 'click' noise. Natasha just gave her The Look, like she couldn't comprehend the amount of strangeness that was Darcy, and exited the room.

Darcy deflated as soon as her door was shut, her stomach twisting in knots.

She was gonna sit to eat with her best friend, who was now married to the God of Thunder, who just so happened to have a brother who was an evil prince ex-overlord who had tried to take over her planet...

And now she knew all too intimately that said evil prince ex-overlord was dynamite in the sack.

* * *

 

Almost as soon as Natasha left the room Darcy struggled to put on one of the several Asgardian-style dresses she’d been given for her week’s stay. This one was an off-the-shoulder silver dress. It had intricate charcoal grey snakes and flowers woven along the bodice, which then stopped at the small of her waist and gave way to long, floor-sweeping layers of floaty pale silver fabric dotted with clear crystals. The off-the-shoulder sleeves were the same gossamer fabric as the skirt. In a word, it was faaaaancy. Just like all the other dresses she’d been given.

It was also hard to put on. And because of this reason, and her status as an elite guest of the bride, she’d been assigned a handmaiden named Brígiða to help dress her and do her hair. Now it hadn’t been a problem with her two previous dresses to just let Brígiða do her thing and help her out, but today was different. Today she had hickies all over her breasts and faint purple finger-shaped bruises from Loki’s passionate hold on her soft hips. So she tried to dress fast because she didn’t want to have any ‘splainin’ to do. Brígiða ended up coming into the room right as Darcy had finally pulled it over her head and rapidly smoothed it down her frame.

Darcy gave a mental sigh of relief as the handmaiden went straight to work lacing up the ties at her back and then set to work on her hair without incident. Brígiða put her dark chestnut locks in an intricate updo, woven with small braids and white pearls and set it all off with a silver circlet adorned with three Asgardian moonstones.  

As Brígiða left the room Darcy peered in a gilded mirror at her own reflection and thought, ‘I look like a princess.’

And then--

‘Or a girl who courts chaos.’

Feeling her mood sour at that thought, she went to get her purse and checked to make sure her trusty taser was in it. Just in case. As she spotted it, another item in her purse caught her eye and stopped her in her tracks on her way to the door.

Her birth control pills.

Yeah, today of all days should sooo not be the first time she ever forgot to pop one of these babies. She backtracked towards the dresser by her guest bed, where a pitcher of water and an unused goblet had been left for her. As the pill went down her throat chased with water, she told herself it was simply to prevent any reeeeally unwanted pregnancies. It wasn’t, like, permission to sleep with Loki again or anything.

She kept on mentally telling herself that last part over and over again all the way down to the Great Hall.

* * *

 

The celebration was well underway by the time Darcy entered the Hall. The place was filled with gigantic gold columns and thousands of bodies sitting to eat, or milling around to socialize at neighboring tables, or dancing a drunken jig, or having a friendly arm wrestling competition. Hearty laughter, strange yet enchanting music, and the smashing of earthenware followed by shouts of “Another!” filled the vast space.

On silver slippered feet, Darcy quickly walked along the long center aisle towards the head table, waving every once and again to a few faces she recognized in the teeming crowd as dance partners or people (beings?) that she had met in preparation of the wedding.

It took her a solid two and a half minutes to walk the length of the Hall and finally reach the wedding party’s table. Thor and Jane, shining brightly as the sun in their golden wedding attire, were of course at the center of the table faced out towards the sea of wedding guests. To Thor’s left was the All-father, Odin, and then He Who Must Not Be Acknowledged, the Warriors Three, Heimdall, Selvig (who was wearing pants, thankfully -- though Darcy didn’t know how long that would last by the increasing state of drunkenness he seemed to be heading towards), and so on and so forth. To Jane’s right was Jane’s mom, and then Sif, and then an empty space for Darcy, followed by a pretty Light Elf that she had never seen before, and then dozens of other finely dressed royal women. Darcy walked around to her empty spot, steadfastly avoiding looking in a certain dark Asgardian’s direction. Though out of the corner of her eye she saw a blur of black and green attached to a pale face tracking her movements. The attention made her heart race and practically burned holes into her skin.

She nodded politely to the Light Elf and then said “Hey, Sif,” with a smile as she took her seat.

“Lady Darcy,” the warrior acknowledged with a beautiful smile, though there was a faint sadness that Darcy detected from her. It had been there ever since Thor and Jane’s engagement had been announced. She couldn’t help but feel her heart ache a little for the lovely warrior.

“Darcy, these dresses really become you. You look lovely, dear,” Jane’s mom, Linda, said from her seat. Darcy noticed that there was a glazed look in the woman’s eyes, and a lazy smile was on her face. A goblet with a dark rose red liquid in it was precariously leaning in one of her hands. Jane’s mom was _torn up_. In fact, just about everyone here seemed to be smashed, or on their way to it.

“Aw, thanks, Momma Foster,” Darcy beamed. In a stage whisper she asked, “Think anyone would notice if this dress disappeared at the end of the week? I’m pretty sure I could buy a brand new car with this thing.”

Linda and Sif both laughed, and Sif confided to her, “You are good friends with the Queen of Asgard. I am sure the dresses are all yours.”

Queen of Asgard? Still weird to think of geeky little science-obsessed Jane as _Queen_.

“Sweet!” Darcy said, trying not to get choked up. “I can retire at the ripe age of twenty-four!” She was joking of course. She might be good at sassy comments and acting like nothing phased her, but the truth was she would probably hang the beautiful gowns up in her small SHIELD closet and take them out to look at them when she really missed Jane.

Except maybe not the purple one. The purple one now reminded her of an ancient library filled with dusty books and her moans as the purple fabric was pushed up to her waist and--

“Darrrrcshyyyy,” Jane slurred in a sing-song voice.

Darcy jumped a little, and then mentally cleared her head. She turned to look at the bride, who had rosy cheeks and a sappy smile on her face.

“You’re drunk, married lady,” Darcy said with a grin. At that moment she placed her hand over her own goblet, so an attendant took the hint and didn’t fill it with wine. She was thinking after the shenanigans she’d already gotten up to it’d probably be best to keep her wits about her.

“Uh huh,” Jane confirmed with a vigorous nod of her head. There was a golden glow around her. Like, a literal glow. She was glowing. Darcy was pretty sure it had something to do with the sacred honeyed mead that she and Thor shared in a giant jewel encrusted gold goblet. The drink was a rite of passage for newlywed Asgardian couples, which they were to continue sharing for their first month of marriage. Something had been said during the ceremony about the honeyed mead creating a bond between them. Selvig had told her that this tradition is likely where the Midgardian term ‘honeymoon’ had come from.

Jane’s love-drunk chatter continued. “There were witnesshes who watched me and Thor conshu-consu” -- she grew exasperated and gave up trying to pronounce the word ‘consummate’ in her inebriated state -- “have sex last night.”

“Jane!” Linda said in a scandalized, motherly tone. Right before she burst into drunken giggles.

“And now I know why you’re drunk,” Darcy said with a snort. Royal customs were weird and pervy. “Thank goodness I wasn’t there for that,” she said, all the while trying to maintain a poker face on what she had been doing last night -- or rather _whom_. “Though I hope you gave ‘em all a good show,” she said with a sly wink.

Jane burst into fresh peels of giggles. Thor, who had been speaking loudly and rather sappily to the men on his side of the table, drew Darcy’s eye -- and there was a white hot moment when her blue eyes connected with green. She quickly turned her focus back to Thor, who was talking about how happy Jane made him, but the damage had already been done. Her heart was racing from the look of pure _hunger_ Loki had been sending towards her. She tried to get her bearings back, focusing on Thor, who had suddenly burst up from his seat and extended a hand out to Jane. “MY LOVE, LET US DANCE!” he bellowed, and a light bulb moment hit Darcy, making it well and truly clear where the phrase ‘getting hammered’ came from. He raised myuh-myuh and then parted his hands, making all the tables along the center divide slide away from the middle of the room closer towards the walls to create dance space. Everyone clung to their seats and laughed madly at the ones too drunk to hold on, who lay on the dance floor like roly polies on their backs.

Darcy smiled in amusement and started to fill her plate as she watched Thor and Jane take a spin around the room. On second thoughts she decided to ask Sif to identify all her food items for her. Just to be safe. It all turned out to be legit. Famished, she dug into perfectly seasoned rack of lamb, roasted onions and carrots, and thick brown bread spread with herb cheese. She was almost done when some attendants brought out platters of fresh desserts. Her eyes unerringly fell on the mound of glowing fruit that was placed only a few feet away from her.  

She swallowed a piece of bread while she watched Sif pluck a handful of the glowing fruit and start to eat them like it wasn’t a big deal.

Feeling her mouth go suddenly dry, Darcy took a sip of water and then tried to be nonchalant, motioning towards the fruit in Sif’s hand. “What’s that?”

It was the Light Elf who answered her. “Light Fruit, or ‘Fruit of the Soul’ as we call it where I come from.”

Darcy turned towards the Light Elf. She was looking towards the platter of Light Fruit with nostalgia. “Fruit of the Soul?” Darcy asked. That sounded kinda hippie-ish. Remembering all the colors and lights she’d seen the night before, she was suddenly struck with a scene of all the Light Elves lounging around on their realm eating the fruit and telling each other ‘I like your vibes, man.’ She had to suppress a giggle.

The Light Elf’s gaze fell on Darcy, striking her with the full force of her ethereal beauty. Her irises were colorless, in the best possible meaning of the word. Like clear, iridescent crystals, they refracted light so at certain angles rainbows shown through. The effect was striking against her radiant brown skin and cascading moss colored hair. She elegantly inclined her head, sending a heady scent of rain and flowers Darcy’s way. “Yes. Fruit of the Soul. It is a fruit traditionally used in Light Elf courtship because of its capabilities.”

Darcy’s amusement instantly dried up at the word ‘courtship’. Sif, who had tuned in because they had been watching her eat, seemed to know where the conversation was going because she was quick to interrupt with pinkening cheeks. “Though the fruit has no effect on Asgardians. Our tolerance is too high. We’d need to ingest hundreds of them to achieve any sort of effect. To us it is just a rare treat, a--”

“A novelty,” the Light Elf finished with an amused smile.

Sif started to apologize to her, “I do not wish to offend--”

The Light Elf waved the apology away goodnaturedly. “You do not offend me, Lady Sif… Though I do question the kitchen staff on whether any forethought went towards the guest list when offering such a fruit. The Light Fruit may be a glowing novelty to you _robust_ Asgardians, but to someone like she or I,” she said, indicating Darcy -- whose stomach clenched up at being included, “it has the capability to shed light on our inner worlds and allow us to see the unseen. That is why it is a sacred fruit used for courtship in my realm,” she informed Darcy. “Young Light Elves of courting age ingest but one, and it unveils the life force, or soul -- hence the term ‘Fruit of the Soul’ -- of everything they encounter. Guided by it, they find the soul most compatible with their own… Their soulmate.”   

That last word blared in Darcy’s head until she was under a very real threat of losing her lunch. She tried to get her words out around her sudden queasiness. “Y-you mentioned me. I can, uh… I can see s-souls too?”

“Oh yes,” the Light Elf said, confirming Darcy’s worst nightmare. “Midgardians’ tolerance levels are more in sync with Light Elves, for our lifespans are not so different. Light Elves’ life expectancies are around two hundred and fifty years before we return to the soil and are reborn again. To my understanding Midgardians live around one hundred years. So, in essence, the Light Fruit would most likely have an even more concentrated effect on you.” Her manner turned playful, teasing. “So do not partake in it unless you are ready to have your world change.”

“Excuse me,” Darcy squeezed out past her throat, as she sprang up from her seat and launched herself out of the Hall, this time through a side door, so she could throw up.

**  
Continues in Part 3**

**Author's Note** : Yes, there's a Part 3. It's fully written and beta'd. Are you proud of me? Hopefully you like this tiiiiiny piece of plot that's somehow made its way into my smut fic :P (and yes there's smut coming up in Part 3)


	3. Part 3

**For We Are All Made of Stars**

**Part 3**

Darcy was no stranger to ‘worshipping the porcelain god’ after a stint of over excessive partying; she’d had, in fact, a vague notion that she was going to end up hugging a toilet at some point while on Asgard, possibly after chugging too much ale while wearing a horned helmet. It never occurred to her that she’d be slumped over a bowl fully sober though, after getting the news that _she’d eaten something that had shown her her soulmate_.

Oh and the toilets were gold here, not porcelain.

Though the queasiness roiled in her gut, only dry heaves came out. The irrational part of her mind (which could be all of it -- still up for debate) wanted so badly to just upchuck glowy bits of fruit and call it a day. But that window of opportunity had long since passed. The fruit had possibly digested as soon as her eyes had stopped glowing.

“ _ **Your eyes are blue**_.”

Darcy closed her eyes tightly shut, taking in big controlling breaths and trying to block out _Loki_ and _glowing fruit_ and _soulmates_. But the more she tried to not think about them she thought about them even more.

What a weird combination of words anyways. They didn’t make sense. Not in Darcy’s world at least.

She didn’t believe in soulmates. It kind of came with the territory, growing up with a no-show dad and a mom who had always been in and out of halfway houses. To top it all off, she’d been raised by her Grams -- a woman who had been divorced for over thirty years. Girls who grew up the way Darcy did… they just didn’t hold faith in that fairy tale meant-for-each-other crap.

Until Thor had fallen out of the sky and met Jane, that is.

OK, so Darcy had to admit they were the first couple to ever give her that swoony ‘wow maybe true love _does_ exist outside of a Jane Austen novel’ notion, but…

But Thor and Jane’s love was _pure_.

And that was another thing: Thor and Jane actually _loved_ each other. Darcy didn’t even _like_ Loki. They’d even mutually agreed that they just about hated each other right before they banged like wild animals in a library. Excuse her if she was wrong, but she was pretty sure declarations of ‘I hate you, let’s fuck’ were not what mushy soulmate stuff was made of. Not to mention that her first notion after associating the words ‘Loki’ and ‘soulmate’ together were to run to a toilet...

_Yeah_. The more she thought about it, the more her frazzled nerves were becoming soothed. She wasn’t gonna let some stupid little glowy fruit dictate her life. She was Darcy freakin’ Lewis and she was in control of her own fate.

Her breathing now under control and her stomach no longer threatening her, she stood up from the pristine marble floor, grabbing her purse with one hand and smoothing out her dress with the other. She walked out of the golden restroom area and into the golden powder room area (and, wow, did they get freakin’ King Midas to interior decorate this place, or what?), setting her purse down on what looked like a counter made of black marble encrusted with tiny shimmering gold stars as she ran the gold sink taps and washed her hands, and then turned the hot water tap off so she could cup her hands and sip some cold water to quench her dry throat. It was as she was drying her hands on a fluffy towel that she caught sight of the tall, dark reflection in the mirror.

“Are you well, mortal?”

He was right behind her. She could feel the heat of him burning through the back of her dress. A thrum started to pick up in her stupid traitorous body.

_Loki. Light Fruit. Soulmate._

_**No**_.

She cleared her throat, trying to make the mess of emotions tangled within her bend to what she needed to feel. Letting her eyes slowly drift to her purse, she was thinking she knew which response she was gonna go with. She nonchalantly went to rummage in it, like she was looking for a chapstick, right before she spun around and pressed her taser to his crotch.

His gaze slowly raked down between their bodies to where her device was pressed to him intimately, and then just as slowly drifted back up. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” he drawled. His expression was a mixture of smug and critical, as if to say ‘you think this is going to scare me when really this is simply foreplay, mortal’.

She pressed on, annoyed that despite what her head was telling her her body still wanted him. She pressed the taser a little harder. "This neat little device is something new up SHIELD's sleeve. It has enough volts to knock out the _Hulk_ ," she informed, letting that sink in for Loki. It really did too. She'd seen it first hand when Banner had volunteered to Hulk out and let SHIELD test it on him. Of course Tony Stark had instantly flashed in suited up Iron Man style and had batted it out of Natasha's hands and gleefully poked the Hulk himself. The big guy had convulsed and in a matter of seconds went out like a light, prompting Tony to make a Princess Bride reference, telling the unconscious green rage monster to 'dream of large women.' To Loki, who looked a lot more subdued by her revelation, she said, "So I suggest you back off, because I'm pretty sure if I flipped the safety on this and let it do it's thing your dick would fall off."

Her smile was real now; she felt like good ol’ taser totin’ Darcy. This was her world. This was what she knew. She watched his eyes rapidly move across her face as her words filtered through that intelligent trap of a mind he had. But then… then his look of alarm gradually fell away and morphed into that toe-curling smirk of his, and her flare of triumph instantly fizzled, to be replaced with a chill down her spine and the thought that he'd probably been faking his alarm all along. God of Lies indeed. His eyes glittered a dark _dark_ green as he swept his gaze over her, as if seeing her in a new light.

Darcy felt the pit of her stomach tighten in reaction. There was a new-found admiration in his gaze that hadn't been there before. It was so, _so fucked up_ , but she could feel herself getting wet.

"Lovely _and_ bold."

Darcy jumped, dropping the taser. His voice had come from her right side, the words caressed into her ear. She was faced with one of his doppelgangers. His smirk was identical to the real Loki's. Thoroughly rattled, she turned back to face Loki.

He held her taser, teasingly wagging it out of her reach. "You'll get this back when you learn to play nicely." His hands did an intricate movement and it vanished into thin air.

Instant indignation burned her.  She wasn't likely to get another advanced taser like it. She wasn't even authorized to have this one because of how powerful it was! It was a 'Level 7' weapon for field agents only. Darcy definitely wasn’t Level 7 or a field agent. Natasha, knowing Darcy had a hankering for tasers, had given her her own and filed it as 'lost in action' to be issued a new one. The freaking _Black Widow_ had gifted her a weapon. It was priceless to her.

Stepping into his space, she held her chin up defiantly, heedless to the danger she was putting herself in for her beloved taser. "Give it back," she grit out.

His face loomed down until they practically shared the same breath. "No," he breathed out imperiously, the movement of his lips brushing infinitesimally against hers, sending spikes of electric thrills to where his skin made contact with hers. A pulse sizzled through the air, and Darcy felt her breathing pick up speed. What made it even worse was his breath was picking up too. He was just as affected by her. She did that to him. His dilated eyes fell to her lips. "Give yourself to me. Give yourself to me under no influence of magic and the taser is yours again."

The word ‘magic’ threw her mind back to _glowy fruit_ and _soulmate_ and _Loki_. She tried to get her breathing back under control. She couldn’t do this. “How ‘bout we skip that first part and you just give me the taser back? How does that sound?”

His gaze swept over her, assessing. She noticed he had a way of looking at people like they were books laid out before him with all the answers just waiting for him to soak up. A moment later a flare of knowing entered his eyes. “Ah so _that’s_ what you were talking to that Light Elf princess about. From your panicked expression it’s quite clear that you’ve discovered the properties of the Light Fruit.” He looked highly amused, and predatory. Darcy felt the counter dig into the small of her back as he took a step forward and she took a step back.

A dark blush overheated her cheeks. So he _did_ know all about the Light Fruit?! And he still wanted to do her. Again. “So you think you and I are…? We’re...uh…?” She couldn’t make herself say it.

“Soulmates?”

“Don’t say that word!” she cried out in a panicky voice. She was finding that she was reeeeeeally uncomfortable with the ‘S’ word.

He chuckled and it was deep and dark, truly amused by her reaction. “I have seen the courting rituals of the Light Elves. I know that the Light Fruit does lead them to their soulma-- sorry,” (though he didn’t look very sorry) “the one that they are most compatible with. _Last night_ , however,” he continued, his voice dark and filled with lascivious intent, as he seemed to reminisce, “was the first time I saw the effects on a Midgardian.” He took the last step until their legs touched; he rested his hands on the counter on either side of her. It was like the library all over again. Must. Not. Give. In. “By the way that you described my _soul,”_ he put emphasis on the word, “I would have to say that you were under the same effects, though your reaction was a bit more… colorful. Most likely due to you being Midgardian.”

“I wasn’t attracted to you by your soul or whatever,” Darcy had to rationalize, because she couldn’t believe it -- _wouldn’t_ believe it. Talking about soul attraction was just too heavy and beyond the scope that Darcy was comfortable living in. “I was just high off magic and thought the colors surrounding you were pretty. That’s it.”

“And that may very well be,” he agreed, surprising her. “I am willing to go by your word. I am Asgardian after all, and therefore have never felt the effects of the Light Fruit.”

That was, well… Actually that was a huge relief. Awesome. But a question rose to her mind at his words, aided by images of the deep blue colors she’d seen surrounding him last night. Technically he wasn’t Asgardian, was he? It was a little strange how he worded things, like he wanted to ignore his heritage out of existence. Either her face was too expressive or he could read her mind.

His facial features grew hard and determined.  “I _am_ Asgardian; make no mistake of it. Odin saw to that when he performed blood magic on me as an infant. _You’ve felt the hot blood rushing beneath my skin_ ,” he whispered the words against a pulse point in her neck. Her eyes closed; an instant bolt of heat went straight to her core. Though the thought came unbidden to her that she’d also felt pleasure from the flashes of his skin giving off minty-like coolness while under the effects of the Light Fruit. She’d seen his blue skin. She wasn’t sure if he knew that.

But if he wasn’t going to bring up talking about his Frost Giant form, she wasn’t going to either.

Instead she filed it under: Things to Ignore Because She Was Sticking to the Story that Light Fruit Effects Weren’t That Big a Deal and had Absolutely Nothing to do with the ‘S’ Word

Loki was kissing her bare skin. Fuck. When did that happen? And why wasn’t she stopping him? The feel of his hot velvety tongue and lips kissing along her bare shoulder and working his way over to that sensitive junction where her neck met her shoulder were threatening to fog her brain over with lust.

But she was confused. “Wait. No. We just agreed that the whole magic fruit thing was a fluke. Why are you, uhm - oh - doing that?”

He dragged his lips up her neck, sending a trail of sparks along her senses in their wake. “Simply because I want to,” he breathed out, torturously near her lips but not touching. “Do you want me to stop?”

Fuck. Say ‘yes,’ Darcy, say _**yes**_. This wouldn’t be magical fruit induced sexy times this time, it would be unequivocal no-perceptions-altered reality. Even now, things felt more intense in a different way because she wasn’t distracted by magical colors and energy. Her perception was crisp and her heart was pumping like crazy because he was so _so_ close that she could smell the scents of a spicy soap, leather, and a sweet woodsmoke on him…

Put all that together plus the taunting closeness of his lips and her resolve was crumbling. It also didn’t help that she now had stored memories of him naked and pleasuring her. “ _No_ ,” the word was almost ripped out of her. “But we shouldn’t do this. I’ll probably instantly regret it right afterwards.”

“Then it is my mission to make this so good for you that secretly, deep down inside, beyond that regret, you’ll crave for more.”

Fuck.

She looked beyond him, around the room, grasping for sanity. It was hard to come up with legit reasons why she shouldn’t do this when her pussy ached with neediness from his seductive levels cranked up to the max.

Her lagging brain finally thought of something. “We’re in a public--”

He made a motion with his right hand, and suddenly all the outside noises from the merrymakers in the Hall were muffled. She had the distinct feeling that he’d just put them in their own little magic bubble. “If it is discretion the lady wants, she shall have it,” he said with a grin, his eyes falling to her lips.

“No one can see us?” Darcy asked.

“No one,” he confirmed.

“And they can’t hear us either?”

His grin turned decidedly wicked. “You can be as loud as you like.”

Well, shit. Darcy’s brain was tapped out of reasons for the moment. She licked her lips. Loki’s eyes followed the movement. Slowly, he leaned down and watched for her reaction. When she tilted at a better angle to receive his lips, that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed. They clashed in a bruising kiss. Darcy tried to punish him for being such a seductive bastard by nipping at his lips -- but _he liked it_. And she liked that he liked it.

“I… don’t like you,” she said weakly, even as she pointedly bared her neck for him.

He took the bait, gravitating back to renew his attentions on the sensitive spot he’d found out. “Your body does though. You touched yourself thinking of me last night.”

“Wow. Arrogant, much? I so did.. not,” she said very unconvincingly.

He smirked against her skin, trailing his lips to the other side of her neck and sending a fresh set of shivers through her. “And I stroked myself thinking of you as I said I would.”

She felt her wetness positively soak through her panties at the image he painted in her mind.

“All I’ve wanted to do is be back inside you ever since the library,” he confessed, hitching her up onto the counter. Throwing regret out to be felt later, she decided to live in the now and aided his wicked endeavors by spreading her legs and helping him pull up her skirts until her sheer black panties were exposed. He rubbed two long, pale fingers over the soaked fabric, making her head spin at the sweet pressure he was creating. She watched him work her through the fabric, when suddenly the fabric was gone -- vanished -- so that the puffed pink dampness between her thighs was on display for him. He stared at her sex, his irises darkening until they were almost swallowed up by black. He licked his lips, and then slid those same two fingers along her wetness, gathering up the warm liquid and massaging her clit, making her arms fall back onto the counter and her hips to arch into the contact.

“You have such a sweet little honeyed slit,” he breathed out as those two fingers entered her and his thumb took over rubbing her clit. She moaned, thinking ‘ _You talk so weird, dude. Like dirty Shakespeare_ ,’ but found that it actually turned her on even more. The combination of his words and the ministrations of his hand built the ache deep inside her. With his other hand he tugged down her bodice, exposing her breasts. Keeping up the pace with his fingers, he leant forward and starting sucking on one of her nipples in earnest. An electric spark of pleasure went straight from her breast down to her core. It had only been a few minutes but she was already feeling the sparks and fire building in her tummy. It was crazy but he touched her just like she touched herself. If she had enough brain power at the moment, she would have asked him how he knew exactly how to touch her, but all that came out were moans as he switched to her other breast and started sucking voraciously. Sooo close…

He must have known just how close she was because he stopped. “I want to feel you come around my cock,” he told her as he slid his fingers out of her pussy and brought them up to his lips. He licked them as he kept eye contact with her. Darcy shuddered limply at her place on the counter. “Turn around,” he said, as he widened his stance and then pulled the long draping fabric of his space prince overcoat-thingy over his thigh and out of the way, then set to work at the fastenings at his crotch.

Dazed, she dumbly asked, “Wha?” as she watched pale skin come into view. A goody trail, followed by a thatch of silky black hair were revealed, before finally his long, thick length bobbed up once released from the black leather, shining with clear fluid and flushed a deep pink against his pale hands.

Giving his length a slow stroke with his right hand, he said again with a grin, “Turn around and face the mirror.”

_Oh_. Mirror sex. That was actually a first for her. Trembling with want and curiosity, she slowly slid down from the counter, sharing a hot stare with him before she turned around and braced her front upper half against the counter.

Everything was laid bare in front of the mirror. Her lips were kiss swollen and her cheeks were flushed, set against her dark hair that was still done up intricately with braids and pearls and the circlet with the three Asgardian moonstones. Her breasts spilled out of the top of her silver dress, her nipples red and tight from Loki’s earlier attentions. Most noticeably of all though was the fact that her eyes were a stormy blue. No glowiness whatsoever.

And then there was Loki: standing behind her looking every bit like the God of Mischief in his royal Asgardian attire. Darcy drank in the firm muscles of his long leather-clad legs, her eyes drifting to the strange metallic panels running up the sides because the golden light of the room shown on them. Her eyes drifted back up his mirror-image as he situated himself directly behind her, his jutting length in hand as he pushed her skirts back up with the other, exposing her ass and aching sex to him. She felt him align himself where she needed him most, the blunt head pressing into her entrance and sinking in as he met her gaze in the mirror. They both moaned at the feel of him filling her.

She couldn’t help but think as their body’s fused together that with her fancy dress and hair she matched his Asgardian image. They looked like a _couple_ in a clandestine moment. Like it was natural or--

_Meant to be_.

She quickly tried to blot that thought out even as waves of pleasure rolled through her as he filled her and started to piston in and out. She couldn’t help but watch their actions in the mirror. His eyes were dark and intent on hers as agonized bliss took over his features, his mouth slightly open. He started to give out little panting groans of pleasure every time his cock plunged back inside of her. His sharp hipbones snapped against the soft slope of her ass as he held onto her hips, and she could see herself grinding back towards him with every thrust. Darcy started to play with her nipples while her elbows kept her gripped to the cold counter.

Loki’s breathing stuttered as his gaze focused on the movements of her fingers rolling her nipples. The little groans he had been giving turned into one deep moan as he started to plunge harder and faster, the head of his cock bumping against that sweet place inside of her. She felt her juices soaking down her inner thighs. Her arms had to flatten out to grasp at the counter to keep her leverage because of his escalating thrusts.

“I do not know if I shall ever get enough of this,” he breathed out, his gaze sliding down to where he was plunging in and out of her. “You look so lovely taking in my cock. Aah,” he moaned, overcome with pleasure for a moment. “If only you could see what I see.”

_Oh god_. Darcy moaned at the combination of his sultry words and voice and felt her pussy clamp down on him even tighter. She tried to tell herself that this was a fantasy. She started to construct the world in her head. This wasn’t Darcy Lewis doing what she did best -- which was making bad life decisions. This was a noble lady from a realm far, far away. Who wore fancy dresses and _**courted chaos**_.

“ _Darcy_.”

Fuck. She couldn’t hold the fantasy. This was real. This was all too real and Loki was leaning over her back whispering her name into her ear and telling her to keep watching. She was about to come.

“ _Darcy_.”

“ _Darcy_.”

“ _Lady Darcy_?”

She was just at the cusp of orgasm when she realized Loki wasn’t the only one saying her name. Her back arched up in panic when she saw two more reflections in the mirror.

Natasha and Sif.

“They cannot see us,” Loki reminded her in her ear, not stopping his movements. “Come for me, Darcy,” he said, snaking his hand around to massage her clit.

And she did, the flood gates of pleasure too great to stop from bursting. She shook from the white hot flare of bliss, but now it was tinged with that regret and shame she had been holding back. Loki snapped both hands back to her hips and held her still, his hips curling as he ground his cock deep into that sweet spot inside of her and groaned as he flooded her with his release.

Her vision shimmered and dimmed. When she came back to herself they were alone in the room.

“They were unaware of our presence,” he reassured her, kissing the back of her neck, but the panic had already taken hold of her.

She’d had sex with Loki. _Again_. And this time she’d almost been caught.

She squirmed out of his grasp and rigidly straightened her clothes. “This can’t happen again.”

“Where have I heard _that_ before?” he asked lazily, leaning against the counter. High spots of color were on his sharp cheeks and bliss still clung to his features. His sated cock was still out and lay against his leather-clad thigh.

Clutching her purse back up, she realized there was a familiar weight in it: her taser.

Him and his stupid tricks. He’d given it back to her all along.

She looked back at him and was met with his mischievous grin. She gave him a baleful glare before running out of the room.

**To Be Continued in Part 4**

* * *

 

 **Author's Note** : My wonderful friend and beta, ****[nemhaine42](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemhaine42)**** , made a beautiful piece of fanart that goes along with Part 3!!! :D You can view it ****[here](http://nemhaine42.tumblr.com/post/77812699189/tasertricks-slight-spoilers-for).****


	4. Part 4

**For We Are All Made of Stars**

**Part 4**

Darcy vowed to ignore Loki for the rest of her trip. So naturally that didn’t pan out for her. Like at all.

After Darcy ran out of the bathroom she met up with Sif and Natasha, who had gone on a search looking for her to find out why she’d freaked out in the Great Hall and had dashed out of the room. Closely watching their facial features and trying to discern if they were harboring any ‘Ew we’ve seen you half naked and getting ploughed from behind by Loki’ vibes (‘and, wow, Darcy, just wow -- the fact that you can now say that phrase and it be true has gotta be a Guinness World Record for all time major fuck up,’ she thought), she finally deduced that they were none the wiser -- just concerned for her well-being. Which they should be.

She ended up mumbling some made up story about how her contacts had been irritating her and she’d ran out to go flush her eyes and then somehow had gotten lost (it wouldn’t be the first time). They’d taken her story at face value and then they’d all gone back to the Hall to continue the celebrations.

From then on Darcy had been determined to be a dutiful bridesmaid, maybe even overcompensating a little, by sticking by Jane’s side like glue. She danced with her and Thor, showing the latter how to do ‘The Robot’ (which was really weird and extra hilarious with the accompaniment of the Asgardian music) and then later she helped hold up the voluminous skirts of Jane’s dress so the bride could pee… followed by holding her hair back so she could upchuck after imbibing a little too much sacred mead.  

Darcy tried to keep herself busy and have as much fun as she could dancing the night away, but it was impossible for her mind not to stray to the exact things she was trying not to think about. She was still able to feel the imprint of him all over her while she danced: the feel of his lips on her shoulder, and the kiss he’d pressed to the back of her neck. Her breasts felt heavy back inside the bodice of her dress, and her nipples were tender from his mouth and her hands. And there was absolutely _no way_ to deny thoughts of him after she’d helped Jane out in the bathroom. She’d told the bride she’d 'be out in a sec because she had to pee' -- but really she’d shamefacedly been cleaning up Loki’s come from between her thighs because she’d been too quick to get away from Loki to do it initially.

And _then_ there was the cherry on top of this disaster sundae -- that stupid trick Loki had pulled with her taser. If she’d just reached for her purse she would’ve realized that she’d had the taser all along and could’ve left the situation with the upper hand. But _noooo_ \-- she’d had to give herself away by not even making a real effort to leave. She’d wanted him, and Loki had made sure that they were both well aware of that fact.

Try as she might she couldn’t stop thinking about him, the trick, and the things they’d done. Especially because with every swish of her dress she could feel the absence of a certain article of clothing.

Her underwear. Loki had magicked it away and had never returned it to her.

A glint caught her eye. She looked back towards the wedding banquet table from her spot on the dance floor and was met with the sight of Loki indulgently spread out back in his seat, more gold on him than ever before -- including his horned helmet.

He locked eyes with her and gave her a knowing smile. Darcy quickly turned away and did her best to ignore him for the rest of the night.

* * *

 

Apparently she couldn’t even ignore him in her dreams.

_It was like a rewind of events. She was back in the golden powder room bent over at the waist. Loki assured her, “They were unaware of our presence,” and placed a kiss to the back of her neck. But the scene had changed in one drastic way: that dark blue color was shimmering and glittering around him._

__

_Instead of her hastily righting her clothes and storming out of the place, she and Loki were kissing and laughing breathlessly as he found a clean towel and wet it with warm water and cleaned her between her thighs before cleaning himself off. They continued kissing and laughing and giving each other lingering, teasing caresses as he helped her smooth her silver dress out and she coyly put him back in his pants and laced him up._

__

_“What do you wish to do now?” Loki asked with a grin, as he brought the back of her hand up to his lips for a kiss._

__

_Darcy smiled at his peculiar gentlemanly gesture. It was so quaint and charming after what they’d just done -- she’d never gotten a hand kiss from an Earth guy hookup, and certainly didn’t expect it from this disgraced Asgardian prince. She looked towards the archway where the sound of music and merrymaking was coming from. “I should go back out there and dance,” she said, almost regretfully. Her hand was still in his._

__

_He turned thoughtful, and then an impish smile quirked his lips, “I have a better idea,” he said, and then spun her around._

__

_Darcy laughed in exhilaration as she spun towards the archway leading out of the powder room. “What’s your idea?”_

__

_“Come dance under the stars with me,” he said, as he spun her in towards his body again._

__

_She looked at him. There was a difference there. He didn’t seem like mischief and manipulation were his intent for once, he just looked eager for adventure. And that beautiful blue light was around him._

__

_She couldn’t say no. A big part of her didn’t want this spellbound moment to end. “Ok,” she agreed._

__

_He smiled and started to lead her out. As an afterthought she remembered, “Oh wait! My purse!” and was about to head back, but Loki stayed her._

__

_He did one of his intricate hand movements and she watched the whole purse disappear from across the room. “It is safely back in your room,” he informed her. “Now dance with me.”_

__

_“Nifty,” she said, as she placed her hands at the back of his neck and he put his hands at the small of her waist. He lead her in a dance in time with the ethereal music pouring out of the Great Hall, dancing in circles along the long torch lit corridor. Every few yards they would spin passed an archway that lead directly into the Great Hall, where laughter and conversation would pour out, along with dozens of faces. But some instinctive part of her knew that Loki wouldn’t let anything disturb this moment between them.They started kissing, becoming breathless, as they spun further and further down labyrinthine corridors and headed far away from the Great Hall._

__

_“This way,” he said, leading her up a long golden staircase. Her eyes widened as they got to the top of the stairs. They stepped out onto a vast open terrace overlooking the Asgardian sunset. A few birds flew away as he lead her out into the middle of the terrace floor -- which was now doubling as their own private ballroom. “May I have this dance?” he asked, giving an elegant bow._

__

_“Yes you may,” Darcy laughed, doing a little curtsey. She placed her hand in the one he offered her and they began to dance under the deepening twilight. Their movements were slow and unhurried now, as they pressed together and swayed to their own rhythm. The feeling was indescribable, looking out at all the glittering stars and the rainbow bridge as they danced. After she drank her fill of the scenery she focussed her gaze back on him._

__

_His eyes were already on her. She felt herself blushing under the intensity but she couldn’t look away. The blue light around him was like a halo framed by the night sky._

__

_“This is… nothing I ever expected,” he said slowly, as if still figuring the feelings out. “How can I feel so drawn to you? How can I want you so much?”_

__

_Now she was **definitely** blushing. “Um… lust?”_

__

_“That is certainly a part of it,” he grinned. “I want you,” he said._

__

_“Again?”_

__

_“Yes, **again**. And again. And again after that,” he whispered in her ear. “You’ve woken a need in me, Darcy, and I am finding myself insatiable for you,” he confessed. “Do you want me too?”_

__

_“You already figured that out,” she said. “You know, with your little taser stunt you pulled.”_

__

_He grinned at her sour expression. “I would rather you say it than glean the answer from a trick. Say it.”_

__

_Well, blabbing out things was pretty much her thing. Plus, now, in this moment, he just seemed so… charming and carefree. And she did want him. She did. “I want you,” she confessed._

__

_“Then have me,” he said cheekily. And suddenly in a flash they were bouncing onto a massive bed, the biggest bed she’d ever seen actually. It was covered in the softest, most luxurious sheets and pillows, and all were made of black silk. She gazed around and saw gauzy black bed hangings around wooden frames. The wood was engraved with ancient runes and forest scenes depicting wolves._

__

_She’d never seen Loki’s room, never even **dreamed** of seeing it until now - literally, but she was pretty sure she was in it._

__

_In his bed, more specifically._

__

_And he was in it too. “Tell me what you want,” he said in a hushed voice while kneeling next to her. He started to unbind her hair from the intricate updo Brígiða had done that morning. Little white pearls spilled out onto the black silk sheets._

__

_“I want you,” she said, her breath hitching as his hands caressed her scalp and unbound hair._

__

_“Then take me,” he said, his smoldering gaze locking with hers as he backed further onto the bed and then unfolded his long limbs so that he was laying on his back. His clothes slowly shimmered away. He was long, lean lines of pale skin surrounded by shimmering blue light and waves of black silk. He wrapped his right hand around the base of his flushed pink erection and stroked upwards, slowly tilting his narrow hips up with the movement. “Take me,” he repeated, his green eyes drinking in her form as he stroked himself. “Pleasure yourself on my cock.”_

__

_Darcy bit her bottom lip and rubbed her thighs together -- and realized her dress had shimmered away too. She climbed across the dark silk on hands and naked knees, watching how his eyes hungrily slid over her breasts and the shadowed space between her thighs as she moved. He gave out a hissed breath as a bead of shiny fluid spilled from the tip of his arousal._

__

_She put her hands on his chest as she slid a leg over him so that she was in a straddle. His left hand went around to knead the flesh of her bottom while his right hand lifted his heavy erection away from his stomach and aligned it with her entrance._

__

_She slid down slowly onto him as he helped direct himself inside. Darcy’s mouth fell open on a moan as she sat down fully on him. Loki’s right hand reflexively went to cup the other side of her bottom as his head fell back in the pillows, displaying the pale column of his neck strained in his pleasure. His hands pressed against her ass, urging her to ride him._

__

_And she did. One of her hands fell onto the pillow beside his head while the other stayed on his chest as she started to move her hips. His head tilted back up and his eyes fluttered open. Their faces were aligned in this position, with her hair curtaining around them. “Yes. Take me. Take all of me in,” he breathed out, bucking up into her thrusts. “Use my cock for your pleasure. I want you to never forget this,” he whispered his carnal desires._

__

_His words heightened her arousal until she was in a frenzy. She picked up her pace and added a grinding motion that had her clit rubbing against his pubic bone. They met in a heated kiss. Her hand that was on the pillow tangled into his long hair as she rode him._

__

_She was so close. She had to pull away from his mouth for oxygen._

__

_Something must have caught his eye because he said, “Look.”_

__

_She looked towards where he gestured, and then looked in every direction -- every surface in the room except for the bed had turned into mirrors. She could see herself riding Loki at every angle. She felt herself start to flutter around his cock._

__

_“_ See? Didn’t I say that you looked lovely taking in my cock?”

__

_The words were Loki’s… but they were definitely not said by the Loki beneath her, who had just started to moan and twitch inside her, about to come as she pulsed and fluttered around him._

__

_Through her haze of pleasure she saw **another** Loki. He was fully clothed and sitting with his legs splayed wide in a golden chair. Unlike the Loki beneath her he did not have a blue light surrounding him. He grinned darkly at her. _ “This could have been how our evening went you know.”

__

_Something about him seemed not dream-like. There was no haze around him, like the rest of her dream. He was vividly **real**._

__

_It woke her up._

__

Darcy lurched up in bed, taking in long gasping breaths. “What the hell?!” she burst out, looking around the room wildly, trying to orient herself.

She was… in her guest room. Not naked, she realized, because she could feel the old _Queens of the Stone Age_ band t-shirt she’d put on for bed...and her hand was in her panties. She quickly pulled her hand away, her heart thundering in her chest.

She was alone. It had just been a dream.

A very, very, very vivid dream.

… about Loki. And he’d been kinda nice and charming and even a little submissive. Also, he’d been surrounded by that blue light again. What was up with that? Wait, no. Never mind. She actually would rather not psychoanalyze that bit (she wasn't a psych major anymore, after all; that had so been Freshman year). But that _other Loki_ … he gave her goosebumps and was the reason she woke up gasping in a cold sweat.

 

**_“This could have been how our evening went you know.”_ **

 

The words sent a shiver down her spine.

 

Why would her subconscious mind want to send her that thought? It just seemed...like the thought hadn’t even come from her own brain.

 

It seemed like something Loki would say. The real Loki.

 

_**“This could have been how our evening went you know.”** _

 

But she _had_ seen Loki produce a doppelganger just earlier that day. So it made sense that her brain would come up with two Loki’s in her dream. So maybe her brain had just supplied her with words that she thought Loki would say. Yeah. That seemed logical.

 

Sooooo she should stop thinking about it and go back to bed.

_**“This could have been how our evening went you know.”** _

__

But she couldn’t.

She stuffed her face into a pillow and screamed, “FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU”

**  
To Be Continued in Part 5**


End file.
